


Love and Other Processed Sweeteners

by BewareTheIdes15



Series: Not A Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Frottage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 21:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's trying to figure out what it meant when Dean kissed him, but he doesn't really have anyone but Dean he can ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Other Processed Sweeteners

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older series that it was pointed out to me was not up on here yet. They were not actually written in chronological order, but I'm posting them in the order they are meant to flow as a story. 
> 
> WARNING NOTE: There is no actual sex in this installment, but there is underage sexuality at ages the some would consider extreme underage (Sam is 10, Dean is 12). I do not feel that it is non-consensual, but I understand that this could be triggery for some people. If you are sensitive to these issues, I recommend skipping ahead a story or two in the verse.

Sometimes Sam's not sure why he does the things he does; like biting his fingernails and following Dean Winchester around - he doesn't really mean to do it, he just does.

Following Dean home from school makes sense since they live next door to each other so they're both going the same way. Plus, when the school year started and Sam's mom decided to move out, his dad said Sam was old enough to walk to and from school and had made Dean promise to look out for Sam.

He's pretty sure his dad just meant 'don't let Sam run in front of cars' or something stupid like that - even though he's ten and not, in fact, a dumb-butt - but Dean takes it seriously; waiting for Sam in front of the house before school and the main class building after, keeping right in step with him until they've reached their destination, not even taking his eyes off of Sam when they go in the E-Z Stop to grab some snacks on the way home. The rest of the time though, Dean pretty much ignores Sam; or at least he used to.

After last night he's not sure what Dean does anymore. It's really confusing.

He'd never been kissed before, not by anyone he wasn't related to anyway; heck, he hadn't even known people could kiss like that. It wasn't the way people do it on TV or in movies; it was all wet and squishy and mostly like Dean licking Sam's tongue over and over. It hadn't exactly felt good, but it didn't really feel bad either - it made him feel kind of warm and squirmy inside and he wasn't really sure what to do with it.

The thing was, he knew, in that deep down way, that this wasn't something he could ask his dad or a teacher about without getting Dean in trouble and he didn't think anybody else he knew was going to be able to answer - most kids his age didn't get to hang out with cool sixth graders like Dean. So from where Sam's standing, his only choice is to go and ask Dean about it.

Everybody says Sam's really smart, times like this he's not sure they're right.

Dean's sitting on an old wooden crate that's been behind the Winchester's house since before it was the Winchester's house. He's not really doing anything but staring out at the trees, one leg brought up so he can lean his head against it as he eats the pack of sour gummi worms he bought after school. It still looks pretty cool, when Dean’s the one doing it.

He looks up when Sam comes around the side out the house and his lips twitch up into a small smile like he's actually happy to see Sam; most afternoons he just tells Sam to 'fuck off'. It's weird enough to make Sam stop with a few feet of space between them, a sudden flash reminding him of how easily Dean got him pinned down last night.

Dean's smile turns into a smirk - that was one of Sam's vocabulary words last week and the first thing he thought of when he read it was Dean - but he holds out the bag of gummi worms to Sam and asks, "You want?"

Hesitantly Sam reaches into the cellophane pouch and pulls out a red and blue length of candy, sparkly all over with whatever it is that makes them taste sour. He chews on it thoughtfully as Dean watches him, not really sure what to do with himself now that he's here.

"You didn't tell, right?" Dean asks easily, like he doesn't care either way and Sam tries to figure out what he did to make it sound like that so maybe one day he can be awesome too. Sam shakes his head, staring at a patch of flowery weeds growing up around the base of Dean's crate. "Cool."

There's probably a good reason why Sam shouldn't feel glowy and warm just because Dean called him cool, but he can't think of it.

Dean crinkles around in the bag, drawing out another red and blue worm between his fingers. He holds it out to Sam, but when Sam reaches to try and take the candy from between Dean's fingers, the older boy pulls it away, shaking his head with that smirk. Sam tries again with the same result before he figures out what Dean wants. He holds back for a second, that little voice in his head telling him what a really bad idea this is, but Dean's looking at him, waiting, and if he backs out now he's going to look like a big wimp over nothing. So what choice does he have?

Sam leans in, watching Dean's eyes because he feels kind of stupid but Dean just looks pleased as Sam opens his mouth and nibbles the candy right out of Dean's hand. Somehow in the middle of it Dean's finger slips inside Sam's mouth, petting at his tongue for just a second before it slides free. Sam doesn't know why but his whole body suddenly feels too hot and tiny.

Dean 'mmm's and while Sam's trying to figure out what that means, Dean's spit-sticky fingers slide into the beltloop on Sam's jeans and pull him in so they're almost too close to look at each other without Sam's eyes going all fuzzy.

"I wanna see it," Dean says, his voice sounding way too low. He bumps Sam's nose softly with his own, the smell of artificial fruit flavoring sharp on the breaths puffing into the space between their lips.

Sam's mouth can't seem to decide if it's wet or dry; flooding with saliva one second so he has to swallow with a gulp and then drying up like he's got a fever so that he rubs his sticky tongue against the roof of it over and over. Everything's confusing and fluttery again and he can't really breathe right with Dean so close, though he's not sure why that should make a difference.

Luckily Dean completely distracts him by walking his fingers up Sam's chest to hook in the collar of his blue t-shirt and pull it down. He knows the purple spot is still there - he checked it every time he went to the bathroom today, couldn't help pressing at it to feel the soft little ache like a bruise. Actually, he thinks maybe it is a bruise, but he's not sure how Dean kissing his chest could leave a bruise; it's another one of those things he can't ask and nobody's ever bothered to explain. Maybe he'll ask Dean about that too, just as soon as he remembers how to talk.

Dean seems to like the bruise or whatever it is. He makes that happy little 'mmm' noise in his throat again when he runs a finger over it and Sam's not a baby - no matter what Brian Turner says - so he doesn't whine even though it kinda hurts a little.

"You ever had one before?" Dean whispers. He sounds almost eager and that would be even more confusing except Sam feels kind of eager too, though he's not sure what for. Sam's had plenty of bruises before, but he's pretty sure this is different somehow so he shakes his head 'no', their foreheads grinding together when Dean leans in.

Dean's never really been mean to Sam or anything, but he's never really been friendly either - they're around each other a lot, but that doesn't mean Dean's going to be friends with a little kid like Sam. He never figured it was going to be anything different - he's always thought of Dean as kind of like a big brother and as far as he can tell Dean's always treated him like a lot of the guys in Sam's class get treated by their older brothers, but now he's not exactly sure about all of that because he really doubts that most of the guys he knows feel all wriggly and hot when their brother's touch him. Then again, most of their brothers probably don't touch them like this.

"You could…" Dean looks down into the little space between their bodies when he pauses, "you know, to me. If you want." He taps a quick rhythm on the spot on Sam's collar bone, the muted jolts of pain making it clear what he means.

"Oh," Sam says, mainly because he can't think of anything else to say. It feels like something warm is trying to crawl up the walls of his stomach and he knows the way his face heats up means he's blushing. Dean huffs a little laugh before Sam can figure out the right way to answer and presses his lips, quick and dry and soft, against Sam's.

"It'll feel really good, I promise." Dean does that nuzzle thing with his nose again that makes Sam think of his mom's new cat, Boots. It's kind of weird to think about Dean as a cat, and it makes him giggle stupidly, some of that strange twisty feeling inside of him bubbling out.

Dean laughs too, and he sounds almost as nervous as Sam. He wraps his arm around Sam's waist though and pulls him in so their hips are touching. "C'mon, just try it," Dean murmurs, tilting his head to the side and arching his neck up close to Sam's mouth.

Sam’s pulse is hammering in his chest, his ears, and it seems even harder to breathe all of a sudden. It felt freaky and kind of maybe good when Dean kissed his skin and he wonders if it feels the same way to be the one doing it. He kind of wants to find out, but that voice in his head that sounds a lot like his mom keeps trying to tell him that if he's not supposed to tell anybody about it, then he probably shouldn't be doing it. But then Dean's fingers slip into the hair at the back of his neck and pull him forward a little bit and Sam's lips are pressed against warm, smooth skin.

He's already pretty much doing it anyway, so there's no point in backing out now, especially not when it'll probably just make Dean mad and go back to not wanting to hang out with Sam. Maybe this is something Dean does all the time with his friends and Sam's just too much of a kid to know it's not a big deal. He purses his lips a little bit and it makes a quiet kissy noise against Dean's neck. Dean makes a deep hum in his throat and pulls Sam's head in closer so he does it again, trying to remember how Dean moved last night.

Opening his mouth over the skin makes Dean moan and Sam pretty much stops breathing altogether mostly because his lungs forgot how to work. Licking is good too, apparently, and it feels cool; Dean's muscles and gaspy breaths moving underneath Sam's tongue. He likes the licking part, Sam decides, so he does a lot more of that, get's kind of lost in it until Dean turns his head to mutter "Suck," urgently into Sam's ear.

It takes Sam a minute to figure out how to actually suck on something flat like Dean’s body, but he finally manages to get his mouth pressed tight over the muscle between Dean's neck and shoulder while the older boy hisses and whimpers and keeps Sam's head in place with a tight grip on his hair. Dean whispers things too, right against Sam's ear; 'yes'es and 'please'es and 'Sammy' a whole lot. The words tickle, Dean's breath close and soft and it all makes that crawly thing in Sam's stomach struggle harder.

There's a hint of a taste on his tongue that's a lot like blood and he'd pull away just to make sure everything's ok except Dean's not letting him move an inch, his hand locking Sam's head in place, so he keeps right on licking and sucking at the little spot his mouth has heated up.

He didn't notice that he'd braced his hands on Dean's thighs until Dean started dragging one of them further up, over the jut of his zipper. The fabric's really warm there and feels weird and it takes a second for Sam to figure out that that's Dean's penis he's feeling. He knows guys get hard - again, not a dumb-butt - but he's never actually felt it before and it's all kinds of strange to think that the softness between his own legs could ever feel like that.

Dean seems happy to have Sam's hand there - seems pretty happy with everything Sam's doing, actually - and presses his free hand down harder on top of Sam's, rolls it and rocks up with his hips so Sam can feel his hard dick moving underneath the denim. Dean makes a high, whining noise, his head tossed back and he breathes 'yeah, yeah, yeah' just before his whole body trembles, his arm tightening up and mushing Sam's face hard against him. The bulge under Sam's palm twitches and gets even warmer and a little bit damp like Dean’s been sweating a lot, but Sam's almost positive that's come. He's never done that either, but he's heard about it and he kind of wishes he could see better to tell if it looks like as much fun as everybody says it is.

Dean's panting and shaky when he finally lets Sam go, keeping him close with his legs hooked around the back of Sam's. Mostly he just looks like he ran a really long way, sweaty and flushed and unable to catch his breath, none of which sounds very fun at all to Sam. But then he's also grinning like a dope, slumped back against the mossy brick wall of the house, so maybe it was fun after all.

The spot Sam was sucking on looks really bad; way worse than the mark Dean put on Sam's chest. It's a lot redder and the edges are really sharp and it looks a lot like that time Austin Gazel stuck the hose of his mom's vacuum cleaner to his arm and turned it on to see what would happen - Sam thinks there's something wrong with Austin Gazel. Then again, maybe there's something wrong with Dean too, because he seems to like the spot just as much as he liked the one on Sam, fingering over it slowly.

A minute or two passes before Dean stops looking all hazy and finally scoots over a little bit on the crate, jerking his head in what Sam takes as an invitation to sit down. The cellophane crinkles when Dean offers him another gummi worm, letting Sam get his own this time instead of eating it out of Dean's fingers.

"So, um… That was okay, right?" Dean asks, nudging his knee against Sam's but not meeting his eyes. Sam chews his candy thoughtfully before he eventually nods. He's not exactly sure what THAT was, but he feels okay about it, so he guesses it's nothing too bad. Dean heaves a sigh that sounds a lot like relief and slumps against the wall.

They're quiet like that for a long while, just sitting together, and even with Dean's fingers playing with Sam's like he's thinking about holding Sam's hand, it still feels more normal than anything has since last night.

"Do you miss her?" Dean murmurs, so quietly that Sam might not have heard it if they weren't pressed up against each other on the crate. Sam doesn't have to ask who he means.

"She says her and dad need a break," he shrugs, turning his hand a little against Dean's so their palms cup together. "I think they're getting divorced." Sam hasn't said that out loud before; thought it a lot, sure, but never really said it because it would just make Dad upset and Sam doesn't exactly have a lot of people to talk to otherwise. His chest feels lighter now that it's out.

"Are you gonna go stay with her?" Dean asks, watching his fingers slide in and out between Sam's, never quite lacing.

"Nah. I like it here. Plus, you know, school and stuff." He doesn't mention how he'd worry too much about his dad; how he's terrified of the idea of his father turning into someone like Dean's dad without Sam around to keep him going. He thinks Dean gets it anyway.

He hears Dean swallow heavily and very carefully doesn't look up at the older boys face, just in case he's crying or something. He's seen Dean cry, a lot more times than Dean probably knows, from when Sam sometimes sneaks around and follows him. It always makes Sam sad too.

"You'd tell me though. If you left. You wouldn't just not be here anymore, right?" Dean's fingers tickle against Sam's palm and he stretches his hand out wide to cure the itchy tingle.

"'M not gonna leave. But yeah, I'd tell you." It feels like a promise; even moreso when Dean finally slips his fingers between Sam's and holds tight.

"Cool," Dean says softly. And when he gives Sam a gentle kiss on the cheek, Sam decides maybe he likes the fluttery feeling; it's not going away any time soon.


End file.
